A Matter of Family
by beafstew
Summary: A reboot of the story An Invisible Bat. Jo Grayson doesn't really have friends. She has her father/coach, Dick Grayson, and gymnastics. Everything changes when Jo is involved in an accident and any chance at the Olympics goes down the drain. And despite her everyone's efforts, entering the 'Family Business' might be easier than Jo thought.
1. Chapter 1: Origins

**Helloooo it's been awhile... I'm sorry I've been away, but the writing bug left me and it might slowly be coming back. For those of you who have read my past story, An Invisible Bat (which was written in 2013) this will be the same character idea, same idea as "Nightwing Beyond" but delivered in a slightly different way. This will not be quite the same Jo Grayson you all read, nor will it be quite the same story. I'd like to think my spelling, grammar, and writing has improved over the last three years, but who knows? I still love the character Jo, but there were some big errors I want to correct going forward, to do justice for the character I love (ex: in the original I spelled her name Joe, but here I want it to be 'Jo'). But enough about me, and more about this world.**

 **The DL on Gotham:**

 **The Beyond universe I'm going for is set in late 2039, with Terry just completing his first year as Batman (in my mind, finish Season 2 & Return of the Joker). Neo-Gotham is built on a series of levels, the lower the level the more impoverished you are and the more dangerous it is to live there. The original Gotham (level 1) is extremely dangerous. I will keep to the cartoon canon, but there have been different lines of Beyond comics so I will be combining different elements of storylines and history to create the universe I have in mind... you all will just have to see how it plays out ;) **

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Chapter 1

Jo did not want to get up early this morning.

She should be spared from this nonsense and not have to rise at 5 AM. The alarm blared and she refused to open her eyes as she rolled over and groped for the snooze on her alarm clock. _THUMP!_ The alarm clock hit the floor and rolled underneath her bed, merrily blaring all the way. Jo cracked open an eye in irritation and let out a low moan in agony.

She actually had to get up.

Jo peeled herself off her pillow and tried to hang her torso off the bed. She reached her arm underneath the bed, trying to find the terror of her mornings. Finally, her fingertips brushed the alarm, which was shaking with the noise it was emitting. She huffed as she scooted herself further towards the edge of the bed to grab it, trying to breath with a face full of mattress. Victoriously, Jo snatched the alarm, but, unfortunately, the teenager found herself tipping off the bed. In the most ungraceful manor possible, Jo tumbled onto the floor, dragging most of her bedding with her. And of course, she still did not have the opportunity to switch off her alarm, which happily screeched in her ear.

Jo grit her teeth as she slowly opened her other eye and looked up at the ceiling.

"I hate mornings."

Her father opened the door and yawned, "Jo Grayson, turn that godforsaken alarm off."

Jo wrinkled her nose with irritation as she finally hit the snooze alarm and angrily popped it over her shoulder and onto her vacant bed. Her father walked over to her jumbled mess and started to chuckle. Jo's eyes flashed grumpily, which cut her father off mid chuckle. He nodded shortly, and said, "I'll go make some coffee."

Jo sighed and untangled herself from the bed sheets. She walked to the bathroom and grumpily went through her morning routine, and as she brushed her teeth, wallowed in her exhaustion by seeing how tired she could make herself look in the mirror. By the time she got dressed in her workout attire and headed toward the kitchen for the most important objective at the moment: coffee.

Her father, Dick Grayson, stood by the coffee pot, and quietly sipped his coffee while watching the early morning news. Jo poured herself a cup of coffee and studied her father as she tentatively took a sip of the hot beverage. Her father was always different when he watched the news, particularly if Batman was involved, and she wondered why he continued watching the news on the caped crusader if he disliked it so much. He looked at her sharply out of the corner of his one eye and Jo quickly looked down at her cup, and back up at her father.

"Anything exciting happen last night?"

He shrugged as he turned to face his daughter, his one blue eye rolling. "Nothing new."

Jo nodded and set down her coffee cup, the caffeine effectively pulsing through her veins and she finally felt a bit less grumpy.

"So what's the workout today, coach?"

Dick smiled slightly and took another sip of coffee. "Warm up run and then you're on the beam for the next hour." Jo made a face, "You know how I feel about the beam."

Her father shrugged, "You want nationals, you're gonna' have to do the beam." Jo sighed and trudged toward the staircase. She wasn't sure how she felt about living atop a gymnastics training center; it was both a blessing and an curse.

After her run, Jo spent a grueling hour being trained by her father on a beam. By the time 7 rolled around, she was dripping with sweat and felt the waves of fatigue wash over her as she climbed the stairs. Her father was something of a tyrant when it came to gymnastics, but it was what got results. She and her father shared the same passion, and although he rarely mentioned his past, Jo knew "The Flying Graysons" were some of the best acrobats in the world. He would never let her join a circus, but gymnastics was the next best thing. Acrobatics ran in her blood.

Jo had to hurry her shower and rush out the door if she wanted to get to school on time, which left her in a sour mood. Her skin was still damp after toweling off, so Jo had a difficult time pulling on the pair of tights. She hopped around the room, unbalanced and angered at the difficulty of the situation. Finally, Jo managed to pull the tights up to her waist and she hastily put on her navy kilt, buttoned up her shirt, and threw on her blazer. She glanced at the clock, and muttered, "Shit!" when she saw the time. 7:38 AM.

She was going to miss her train. Jo put on her boots and grabbed her backpack, praying that she had all her books and homework. She grabbed her hat and heavier jacket as she hustled down the staircase and out the door. She didn't wave back at her father, who had started training an older student, and Jo pulled on her hat as she slid out into the cold Gotham morning.

Her breath steamed in the frigid air and she sucked in a breath as her wet hair started to freeze. She pulled the warm hat over her head and straightened her jacket as she made a beeline for the train station. Luckily, it was only two blocks from home, and Jo partly ran, partly shuffled because she didn't have time to properly put on her backpack and jackets. She ran inside the train terminal and sucked in a breath of frustration. Jo skidded to a stop as the train she needed to be on zoomed to the next station. She groaned and ran a hand over her face.

"Terrific."

Her stomach rumbled and she glanced down at the unhappy organ. Coffee was not enough to satisfy her, and Jo wouldn't have food for the next 4 hours. She wasn't sure she could make it. One thing was certain: this was not going to be a good day.

The feminine automated announcer boomed across the station as she declared, "The next train will arrive in… Eight. Minutes." Jo took off her backpack and dug around for her phone. The time was 7:43 AM, and Jo would probably get to school around 8:10. _Fantastic_.

She let out a defeated sigh and tried to fix her rushed state. Jo straightened the jackets she wore, checked her bag, and tried to mentally relax. The station was outside, and a scathing cold wind blew through the station. Jo sucked in a breath and drew her coat a little closer around her. Snow covered the tops of buildings and a part of Jo wished Neo-Gotham streets didn't immediately melt the snow on the sidewalks. Snow reminded Jo of her mother, or at least, the stories Dick told her.

As Jo became lost in thought about her mother, the train whistle blew and thundered into the station. Jo flinched as she was jostled out of her train of thought and peered into the train windows as she waited for the doors to open. She hated taking this train; it ran from the lower levels of Gotham and generally was filthy. Especially in her school uniform, Jo was a target for con artists and pickpockets. The doors opened and Jo gingerly stepped onto the train.

As usual, the trains just before eight were packed and so Jo grabbed the nearest bar and stayed alert as the train doors closed and lurched forward.

The other girl with her hand on the bar was obviously in high school as well, as she wore an oversized Hamilton High letterman jacket and sported a backpack with the school's insignia. Jo glanced at her and quickly looked away. She hated large crowds, but being around someone her age made her even jitterier. Jo felt that she needed to start a conversation, but the thought of actually opening up and saying, "Hello," terrified her like no other. She could feel the girl give her a once over and Jo's skin prickled with discomfort.

"Gotham Academy?" The pink haired girl asked, unafraid to start a conversation, and Jo turned her head to meet her confident gaze. She nodded and looked down at her feet, unsure how to continue and the awkwardness almost felt tangible. God, Jo hated talking to people. Still, this girl wasn't too intimidating… she seemed to be good-natured and genuinely interested in Jo. Her warm brown eyes curiously regarded Jo, and Jo felt that she should at least return the favor.

"You…" Jo hated it when her voice was weak, and she cleared her throat to speak more clearly. "You go to Hamilton High." She lifted her gaze to look this girl in the eyes, and her stomach churned and her palms started to sweat. _Why is this so difficult for me?_

The girl nodded, her short, bright pink hair swept across her eyes and she stuck out her hand that was not holding onto the bar.

"I'm Max."

Jo swallowed and returned the gesture, smiling softly, "Jo."

The train reached the next station and more people filed in. Jo scanned her surroundings again, trying to find any means of conversation. "Uh, how… what stop are you?"

Max glanced up at the screen, which displayed the train's course.

"I'm the next stop, what about you?"

"Two more." Jo glanced down at her bag, unsure how to how to carry this conversation. Max nodded and an awkward silence fell between them. Max looked around like Jo, trying to think of a conversation. Thankfully, the train pulled up to the next stop and the African American girl moved towards the door.

"It was nice meeting you…" She faltered as she already forgot Jo's name, and Jo gave her a slight smile and a small wave. Max disappeared in the flow of people and Jo let out a sigh of relief. She gripped the bar a little tighter as the train lurched forward and tried not to think about the day ahead of her, filled with classmates, teachers, and the explanation of her lateness to her advisor.

 **…**

It was Jo's sixth late that month, so that meant she was sentenced to after-school detention.

Usually, Jo got a little stir crazy by was 12 PM; all Jo wanted to do was be on the gymnastic bars, or trampoline. By 6 PM, Jo was close to doing routines down the hallways, or bailing and going back home. With Nationals in less than two weeks, and Jo needed to train as much as possible. When she and her fellow private school "delinquents" were dismissed from detention, Jo was all but running to the train station.

She walked as quickly as possible down the streets of Neo-Gotham, hustling towards the train station a couple blocks away. As Jo walked past a coffee shop, she was so focused on getting home she didn't see the open door until it was too late. She slammed head first into the door and was knocked promptly to the ground.

Jo stared up at the door. _Who the hell uses swing doors anyway?!_ Her bag had fallen a bit away from her, and her books had spilled out. Terrific.

"I'm _absolutely_ over this. Call me when you decide what you actually want," A girl snapped at someone inside the coffee shop. Jo glanced up to see an Asian girl marching away, oblivious to the fact that she knocked someone down. Of course she didn't notice her, no one ever did. Jo sighed and sat up. She started to gather her books, inwardly cursing the few professors who refused to switch to tablet textbooks.

"Dana wait!" A boy called, but the Asian girl was already gone. Jo glanced up and saw the boy 'Dana' walked out on. He turned around and took a surprised step back as he realized Jo had fallen victim to the door. Their eyes met. For a moment, Jo almost felt electricity cackle as her pulse sped up and stomach started to churn. It wasn't the usual nervousness she felt around people: it was something deeper.

It was much more terrifying.

Automatically, she dropped her gaze and scrambled to pick up her books. Jo felt heat rushing to her cheeks and bit her lip to try and regain control of herself.

"Here let me help you." The boy knelt by Jo, and grabbed the book she was reaching for. Jo recoiled her hand and forced herself to look back at the boy across from her. He gave her a grin and as he handed her the Shakespeare book and said, "Doors are a violent thing."

She wanted to say something that would make him laugh. Something that would make her seem cool, noticeable, or stand out. But her nervous system was taking over, and Jo was distracted by trying to take in his features and controlling her reddening face. She never acted this way, and the fact that she was flustered her even more.

"Yeah," She stammered lamely as she took the book. He arched an eyebrow and his blue eyes gleamed with mischief. The boy ran a hand through his dark black hair and stayed in his crouch, mirroring Jo and studying her. She felt her cheeks get even redder, and Jo dipped her head down as she stuck the final book in her bag and stood up. _Stop it,_ she tried to order her flushing face, but it wouldn't listen. She swung the bag over her shoulder and started to turn away.

"I'm Terry McGinnis," He stuck out his hand and Jo paused mid turn. She looked down at the extended hand. With horror, she realized her palms were sweating and she took a step back and gave him a small smile.

"Jo."

Even though the train station was only a block away, Jo turned around and walked the other way. Her head felt light and her thoughts buzzed over what just happened. Her hands were still shaking as she turned the corner. She glanced out of the corner of eye and saw Terry look at her with a puzzled expression. Her stomach did another somersault and she hurried up the other side of the block. Jo exhaled as she got out of sight of the boy and ran a hand over her face.

Her thoughts felt airy as she kept reliving that moment of connection. Then, as she started the different route to the train station, Jo started to berate herself. Why did she act that way? Why didn't she give him her number, or smile, or ask to hang out or something?! Now she wouldn't see him again… but those eyes. Jo let out a frustrated breath and hurried her steps. He would probably forget her, just like everyone else. Jo's thoughts went in that vicious cycle for the rest of the night.

By the time she got home and started training, it was 7 and her father was not happy. They were planning on starting training by 4 and he had canceled all his classes and students to train her.

He pushed her extra hard, and Jo's head was not in it. She balanced on the beam trying to complete the routine she practiced on the mat that morning. There was a lot of difficult aerial work in her routine, which ended with a double _salto_ , or flip, while twisting in mid air and landing solidly on the ground. Jo kept landing incorrectly, or not quite twisting her body correctly. She was off balance, wobbly, and after an hour and a half of messy routines, her father was at his wits end.

Jo took a break and toweled off some of her sweat as she leaned against the balance beam. Her father walked up to her and handed her a water bottle, he was unable to keep the concern out of his eye as he leaned beside her and sighed in frustration. The condensation from the water bottle created a paste on her chalky hands and Jo decided to stare at it instead of her father.

"Jo, what's on your mind? Did something happen at school?" He asked, and she took a tentative sip from her water bottle. She was seventeen, but boys had never really been a priority in her life. Since she started competing in fifth grade, gymnastics had been her life. Jo had no idea how Dick would react to her interaction with a boy, and she was also embarrassed by how she handled the situation.

"Uh, not really.I mean... its just... This is my last chance to qualify for the 2040 Olympics."

Her father sighed and put an arm around Jo. He pulled her in close and gave her a comforting side hug.

"Winning isn't everything Jo. If you don't qualify, you don't qualify. Do this cause you love it, not for a gold medal. I'll be with you every step of the way."

Jo nodded and managed a small, fake smile. While his words did ease some of her nerves about Nationals, it did not solve the real source of her distraction.

Not in the slightest.

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 **I know its a different story, but newcomers I hope you like it, and older readers I hope you keep an open mind... I've changed and I don't think I'll update the Invisible Bat sequel just cause I really made a mess of the story at the end and I want to reboot this character.**

 **Anyway, hope you all enjoyed it, chapter 2 will be along soon!**


	2. Chapter 2: Origins

Chapter 2

Jo felt like she was going to pass out from exhaustion. It was four days before she was going to leave for Miami to compete at Nationals, and she was overloaded with homework and training. She received another detention for sleeping through classes, but the only way she could complete her homework was to stay up late after training.

Today, she had to take different train because the Gotham metro had to adjust after a super villain blew up the tracks attacking Batman. This later train went a much longer route to the station near her house, and so Jo put on her music and started to decipher Shakespeare. However, Shakespeare's books felt like reading a foreign language and Jo quickly found her eyelids drooping. In the back of her mind, she made a tired mental note to read Shakespeare to kids if she needed them to go to sleep. The difficult language, mixed with soft music, and the gentle rocking of the train lulled Jo to sleep.

She woke abruptly when an electric current pulsed through her body.

Jo yelped and her body spasmed. She writhed in pain and kicked wildly until she landed on the dirty train floor. All the muscles in her thigh throbbed and trembled and spasmed. For a few seconds Jo was blinking away the pain and her fingers twitched as the electricity tapered off. As her senses slowly faded in, she was greeted by the sounds of laughter. A shiver of fear traveled down her spine as she realized she was surrounded by Jokerz. She looked around wildly and as the gang members reenacted her spasms in an enclosed circle.

Slowly, she started to crawl backwards, her leg still numb from the taser. She stopped when her back hit the seats on the other side of the train with a soft thud. They turned to face her at that sound. There was four of them closing in on her, staring at her like she was an alien. They flanked her and giggled as she looked up at them, turning her head wildly from side to side.

The female Joker was on Jo's left and she leaned over, twirling her poorly died blonde pigtails and laughing hysterically, which contorted the badly painted smile into a gruesome mask. She had a short purple dress and a fake corsage, but what caught Jo's eye was the buzzer ring sparking from the Jokerz's gloved hand. Jo realized that the girl was responsible for the rude awakening. A stab of anger filled Jo's heart and she clenched her fists.

On her other side were two stereotypical male members of the gang: one was skinny and dressed in an oversized, tattered, polka doted pink suit and a broken white mask with tufts of a purple wig sticking out, the other wore white face paint and bright red, smeared lipstick. He was much larger, built like an ox and dressed in a red vest with a pair of black pants.

However, the Joker directly in front of Jo was different: once she saw him she couldn't look away. His arms were behind his back and he flashed her his white teeth beneath black painted lips. Otherwise, he did not smile. Terror seized Jo's throat and she heard a whimper escape her throat. He wore a dirty, tattered old straight jacket and looked almost like a zombie with his ghostly white skin and his skull outlined in black paint. Dark, knotted hair tumbled off the back of his shoulders, creating a greater contrast against the bone white skin tone.

"What have we here?" His voice made the hairs on her arm stand up and the fearful expression on her face made the Jokerz grin even wider.

There was no way out of this train car until the next stop, whevenever that was. Her thigh burned and she looked down at the hole the taser burned through her tights and she grimaced. She was in no condition to run long distances either. Trapped like a rat.

"Awe, I think w'ittle miss school girl got lost," The red Joker said condescendingly. The pale Joker nodded. Jo tried to shrink back at their words but it was not possible. She needed to out as quickly as possible, but she was surrounded and her bag, with her phone and creds, was still on the opposite seat rows. Jo didn't even know what Level she was on or where she was. The train car was deserted, save her and the Jokerz.

Suddenly, the Joker in the straightjacket knelt in front of her and reached forward to grab her face. Jo slapped his hand away and tried to scoot backwards to no avail. His hand shot out again and he grabbed her throat this time. His grip stopped her breath and his thumb pressed into her juglar. Her hands shot up and dug her nails into the tough, rotting linen of the straight jacket. She could see her green eyes reflected in his dark eyes and he slowly looked her over. His eyes settled on her chest. "Now what's a Gotham Academy brat like you, doing in a place like this?"

Jo gasped but no air reached her lungs, her eyes growing wider as she tried to breathe. He snorted in disgust and thrust his hand forward and rammed the back of her neck against the bench before releasing her throat. Jo coughed and sputtered as he stood up and stepped backwards again. He turned around to look at her discarded materials and chuckled darkly. "Fuck GA," He muttered under his breath and walked over to pick up her tablet. The shattering of glass filled the air as he threw it down the train car.

"Man we could'a made money from that!" The red joker protested, and suddenly the Jokerz's attention was on her things.

Jo glanced over her shoulder and slowly started to scoot towards the door, trying to make as little sound as possible. Her back hit a pole and she winced. The noise reverberated around the car and they turned slowly to face her. She needed to be on her feet if she stood a chance, so Jo gripped the pole behind her and slowly started to rise. Her leg trembled beneath her.

The four Jokerz moved forward slowly, and the straight jacketed stared her down. The Jokerz advanced slowly Jo realized they didn't care if she moved, they weren't worried she would escape. Suddenly, the straightjacket Joker moved forward with lightning speed, grabbing Jo by the hair and pulling her down so she was crouching and using a majority of her thigh muscles- something that hurt dearly. Jo gasped in pain and looked up at him with fear.

Straightjacket cocked his head to the side like her reaction was fascinating. With the other hand, he brought out a gun from behind and put it under her chin. Her eyes widened and Jo wondered if this was her end. She grabbed his arms and pleaded with her eyes. It only egged the straightjacketed Joker on, and he grinned as he pulled the trigger.

 _BANG_.

Jo's head slammed backwards against the pole as the gun fired a flag that displayed the words "Ha-Ha!". Jo groaned as her vision swirled and tasted blood in her mouth. The Jokerz all laughed and she tried to regain her bearings but pain laced through her skull and reverberated throughout her brain.

The Joker cocked his head to the side and looked at her with an innocent expression. He asked politely, "Aren't you going to laugh?"

She bared her teeth and felt hot blood start the drip down her lips. Suddenly, his expression turned dark, and it only heightened the terrifying effect of his face paint. Jo tried to inch backwards, and he tugged on her hair before twisting back to look at the other Jokerz.

"Guys, she's not laughing."

The Jokerz protested as they encircled her, "Are you kidding? We're fucking hilarious!" They watched their leader and giggled like hyenas. Their laughter sent chills up Jo's spine. The girl twirled around the pole behind the straightjacketed joker and the other two grinned on either side of Jo as they watched things play out.

The Joker who grabbed Jo's hair dragged his gaze over her body and then slowly back up to her eyes. Her heart pounded and she shifted her weight, trying to find her center of gravity. The Joker who grabbed her hair yanked his hand upward and caused her to hiss in pain. She bit the inside of her cheek and glared at him. He chuckled at her reaction, "That's a funny face, doll."

With the other hand, he brought the fake gun close to Jo's neck and then traced the tip of the flag up her jugular vein. He moved his hand from her hair to her chin and rubbed his thumb over her bloodied lips. The white paint on his hands had rubbed off onto Jo's face and she tasted the pigment mix with the warm iron of her blood. Jo bared her teeth again and glared at him as he waved the flag around. He watched her with amusement and pressed the flag squarely against her forehead. He forced Jo's head against the metal pole and the Joker leaned in close.

"Schoolgirl, can you keep a secret?" Part of Jo wanted to hit him, attack and use the skills her father taught her. But what if she failed? The other part felt powerless to fear, especially when he leaned next to her ear and said calmly, "This is a real gun."

He grabbed her throat and slammed Jo against the pole and she cried out in pain. Her knees weakened at her loss of concentration and Jo started to sink lower against the pole, but then he roughly pulled her up again by the throat. Her air supply was not completely cut off, but Jo gasped for air nonetheless.

"What's your name, _school girl_?" The joker sneered, and Jo looked at him with glazed eyes.

Jo was dazed but she felt anger start to flow through her veins. She scowled as much as possible, and glared at the Jokerz. He pulled her hair upward and she winced but remained silent.

When Jo finally opened her mouth, she spit in his eye. Straightjacket recoiled, loosening his hold of her and lurching backwards. Jo threw her weight forward and chopped at his elbow. There was a crack and the joker cried out in pain, letting go of Jo and pivoting to cradle his obviously broken arm. Adrenaline roared in her ears, all pain temporarily forgotten. Jo gained proper footing and kicked him in the chest, which sent him sprawling backwards. She rubbed her neck as she spun to face the other Jokerz, who automatically rushed her. Jo sidestepped as the Joker in the pink coat tried to tackle her. He slammed into the seats and cried out in pain.

The red joker lunged forward and Jo used his momentum again him as she grabbed his arm and managed to flip him over her shoulder. He hit the window and cracked the glass while the female joker ran to their obvious leader, the one with the straight jacket.

"Terminal, I don't like your new friend." The female joker said as she grabbed his arm. Terminal wiped his face and smeared his skull his face paint and he glowered at Jo from the ground. Jo's adrenaline started to fade and dread started to kick in. She glanced up at the train monitor and saw the train had 12 minutes until the next stop, which was level one. By far, the most dangerous part of Gotham and Jo knew there would be worse criminals down there.

She was trapped inside the frying pan, and heading into the fire.

"Yeah, she's not funny." Terminal said between teeth clenched in pain. The female Joker helped him up, and the other joker with the pink jacket turned around, blood dripping from beneath his cracked mask. "A real _bitch_ if you as me," He snarled as he wiped the blood off his mouth.

They approached Jo slowly, backing her into a corner of the train. The three Jokerz were giggling uncontrollably as they pulled out their randomly themed weapons, but Terminal was silent and stayed behind them. He scared Jo the most. Jo's back hit the metal wall of the train and she winced.

The Jokerz laughed maniacally and Terminal said with a satisfied grin, "Schoolgirl, you're in for a world of pain."

Jo's eyes widened and she looked wildly around the train. Suddenly, her eyes landed on the red emergency brake on the left side of the train and she knew what she needed to do. Quickly, Jo looked at Terminal. She put her hands up and summoned her tears. "Please don't hurt me…" She pleaded as her eyes became watery.

" _Pathetic_." Terminal started laughing for real. The other Jokerz joined him as they continued to advance. The words stung even though Jo knew she wasn't surrendering. She sucked in a breath and tasted the drying blood on her lips again. The metallic taste oriented Jo's mind a bit more, and she scanned the four Jokerz as they neared.

Then, Jo leaped forward, praying this maneuver would work. _Just a vault_ , she told herself.

Jo pulled back her fist like she was going to punch the female Joker, and the fake blonde lunged forward, rearing her taser. Jo ducked under her arm and with the joker's shoulders turned toward Jo, she was able to twist her body, grab the female Jokerz's shoulders and twist up and launch herself around the Joker. The girl fell face first onto her taser and screamed as she got a taste of her own medicine. Jo landed behind the Jokerz and right next to the emergency brake. She launched herself forward and pulled the lever.

Breaks screeched as the train suddenly stopped all its momentum. The Jokerz were thrown backwards and Jo's feet left the ground as she tried to hold onto the lever for dear life. The train lights started flashing red and her head spun but Jo jumped onto the train floor and rushed to the doors. If she could get out before the train reached Old Gotham she might have a chance.

Her heart sank when she saw what was below her.

The train tracks teetered high up in the air and the nearest surface was an Old Gotham building at least a hundred feet below her. It was dark on Level one and the wind whipped through the doorway, as if pushing her back to the safety of the train. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Jokerz regaining their footing. All of the male Jokerz were conscious and pissed. Terminal smiled at Jo and the red lights casted bloody shadows across his face.

"You're so dead." He told her matter-of-factly. His broken arm sagged against his side and he slowly picked up the gun from the floor. She took a fearful step towards the edge of the train and looked up at the lights of Neo-Gotham, both trying to put the view of safety in her memory and praying a GCPD vehicle would fly down to rescue her. No such luck and the sound of a gun cocking snapped her attention back inside the train car.

Her skin prickled from a mixture of cold and fear as Terminal slowly stood up and pointed the gun at her. Jo looked up again and noticed something else.

"Bang." Terminal said impassively; he wanted Jo's eyes on him when he shot her. Jo glanced back and smirked.

Before he could pull the trigger, Jo jumped upward, grabbing the edge of the train door and started to haul herself up on top of the car. Terminal fired the gun and Jo felt it pass by her leg. She looked down at the roof in fear and tried to pull herself up faster. It was freezing outside and her hands slipped against the rooftop. Jo could already feel her fingertips numb against the cold metal. She shimmied her body up on top of the slick metal surface, but something, or someone, grabbed her foot. Jo screamed as they tried to pull her back down, and she clawed at the roof, trying to grab some type of handhold. She kicked violently with her legs and hoped she hit something.

Her foot connected with something, but then the other captured foot was forcibly twisted. There was a loud _CRACK_ and Jo screamed in pain. Physical agony laced through Jo's entire leg and for a brief moment, her body went limp. That was all the Jokerz needed to drag her back down.

She smacked the train floor and she stared up at the Jokerz in dazed terror. Her vision started blurring as the Jokerz dragged her back inside the train car.

…

All things considered, it was a pretty quiet night. He patrolled the lower levels of Gotham, and aside from a few run-ins with the Fat-Ts and a couple other low-level gangs, everything seemed to be peaceful. One more sweep and he could turn in for the night. However, then he heard the siren coming from the train tracks.

"Someone just pulled the emergency brake on Railway 29 between levels one and two." Wayne said through the monitor, and Terry nodded curtly.

"I'm on it." The Batmobile sped toward the railway, and Terry followed the tracks until he saw the train. The train was empty. Most of the compartments were empty at this level, and he continued to fly down the long train. Terry turned on the infrared scan and saw five heat signatures in a compartment.

"Hang on, there's something going on in this car." Terry stopped next to the open door and jumped out of the Batmobile and into the train doorway.

Three Jokerz had surrounded someone on the ground Batman didn't think twice as he plunged into action, going for the largest Joker, dressed in red, and tackling him to the ground. He the joker's head against the floor as Batman flipped off and spun to assess the situation. Two unconscious girls- the one facedown on the floor was a Jokerz, but the other was curled into a ball at the feet of two other generic gang members. But Batman recognized their straight-jacketed leader. He was an up-and-coming Joker named Terminal. Not good.

Batman flicked his wrist and a batarang slid into his hand. The joker in the pink jacket shrunk back in fear and looked at Terminal. Terminal calmly knelt beside the girl and pointed a gun at her temple. Terry saw the safety was off and gun cocked: ready to fire. He looked up at Batman with a deadpan expression.

"You can let us go Bats, or you can to clean up her brains."

Batman took a step back, gritting his teeth.

"Any ideas, boss?" He asked Wayne, who paused then said, "You know how to handle a hostage situation."

Terry glared at the lenses and muttered, "Terrific."

Batman assessed the situation and felt that he had seen the girl from somewhere but he couldn't remember her name. It wasn't important at the moment. He flexed his hand and the batarang slid back into his suit. Terminal nodded at his Jokerz and they started to sidestep towards the window. The pink-coated joker shattered the window with his elbow and jumped out of the train. The red joker picked up the female joker slung her over his shoulder, following his associate.

Now, it was just Batman, Terminal, and his hostage.

"Let her go." Terminal narrowed his eyes and pressed the gun harder against her skull. He ground his knee into her ribs and The girl groaned and her eyelids started to flutter. She was badly beaten, bruised, and bleeding. The side of her head was a sickly shade of purple and one eye didn't open all the way. However, by the look of Terminal's badly twisted arm she did not go quietly. The girl gasped and started to open her eyes more.

Batman's itched to pull another batarang but Terminal's finger was twitching on the trigger.

"Don't piss me off, Batman. You know I'll kill this rich brat." Her fully opened her brilliant green eyes focused on Batman. She coughed and blood splattered on the train floor, but the sudden motion shifted her head from underneath Terminal's gun. Batman threw the batarang before the joker could react. The batarang imbedded in Terminal's hand, but he still pulled the trigger. The gun was no longer pointed at the girl's head, but it didn't matter. A flag popped out with the words, _BAM!_ , and Batman lurched back in surprise. Terminal grinned and jumped toward the window.

Batman started to pursue but Terminal swung his arm back to the girl and fired the gun. This time, the flag left the barrel and imbedded itself in the girl. Batman rushed to the girl's side and turned her over to see if she was alive. The flag stuck out of her shoulder and blood was already starting to soak her shirt. She gasped in pain and gripped his hand that held onto her arm.

Batman glanced over his shoulder to see that Terminal had disappeared and he sighed before twisting back to assess the girl's situation. Her eyes had closed and her breaths were shallow.

"Hey, stay with me," He told her and she started to shiver. Her eyes fluttered open and were glazed over with pain. Blood had started to stain her white shirt and Batman saw the bruises on her stomach where her shirt had ridden up. Anger started to boil in his gut and he wished he had beaten those Jokerz to a pulp.

"You're safe now," Batman told her, and he moved to pick her up. She groaned in pain and he moved his hands away, suddenly insecure about his original idea to move her.

"I'm turning on my vid-link," He told Wayne, and pressed the control in his mask. There was the sound of the old man shifting his weight in the chair and then a low exhale.

"That's Johanna Grayson."

His tone made it sound like this girl was someone very dangerous and Terry shifted away from her. "Who is that?" Terry asked as his muscled tensed, and Wayne sighed again.

"That's Dick Grayson's- Nightwing's- daughter."

Terry relaxed for a second, "Oh."

He focused on her bloodied face, which was contorted with pain, and realized where he had seen her before. _Jo._

"Wayne, what do I do?"

* * *

 **EDIT/ UPDATE: So there were some errors I wanted to correct- most of all in the timeline. I don't want Terry to know Terminal's identity quite yet, and in this timeline, Terminal is a rising Joker (has yet to be captured).**

* * *

 **So I felt like I was moving the story along quickly with this, but people always say write what you wanna write. This spoke to me a lot more than writing another "get to know Jo and Terry" chapter and I'd rather the story get going while I still have time to write it. Jo will have a bit more chance to shine in these next chapters as she discovers more about herself and the family... *hint* *hint***

 **Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, and let me know what you think should be improved on. :)**

 **Sayonara**

 **~beafstew**


	3. Chapter 3: Origins

**Sorry this took me a while, I wrote the chapter, then it got deleted, rewrote the chapter, which was also deleted, and finally you have this chapter delivered to you. I hope you enjoy :)**

Chapter 3:

The first thing Jo felt was pain. And lots of it. It was almost deafening; her head pounded so loudly with each pulse Jo thought someone was playing a drum inside her head. It was dark, wherever she was. The second thing she felt was her foot, which was elevated and throbbing with agony. She tried to wriggle her toes but felt a stab of pain and she gasped, which led to Jo's next discovery: broken ribs. Any large movements of her ribcage hurt and she felt tears prick her eyes as she tried to stop breathing as much. She couldn't even feel her right arm and she glanced down to see her shoulder was tightly bandaged and slightly elevated.

Jo sluggishly reached over to pick at the bandaged to see what was underneath and discovered there was an IV attached to her other arm. She shifted with discomfort and tried not to groan too loudly because the noise hurt her ribs. Jo grit her teeth and furrowed her brow.

Where was she? What happened? The stream of thoughts felt heavy and the flow stopped up, like a metaphorical dam had been constructed, which made her head feel slow and congested. Slowly, the details came back to her and fear stabbed her brain, piercing the hazy veil and bringing her to full attention.

Jo looked around wildly, her brain hitting her skull and suddenly the silence was filled with the Jokerz' laughter and the glints of metal or small flashes of light were their dark, bottomless eyes. Well, mainly _his_ dark and bottomless eyes. Jo could barely think his name without feeling his hand around her throat and picturing his gruesome smile. _"Pathetic."_ The word he used to describe her dripped off the walls, it raised her hairs at the very thought of it.

Jo needed to get out. The darkness was closing in. She twisted her head around for the light switch and reached for the bedside table.

Suddenly, an unbearable, stabbing pain in her right shoulder hindered her right side and the IV ripped out of her left forearm as she tried to hit the light switch. She cried out in pain and tried to curled up into a fetal position but her elevated foot wouldn't move and her right arm was burning with pain. She felt tears of frustration, pain, and fear make the back of her eyes grow hot as she realized she couldn't move without severe pain.

The lights blinded Jo as the nurse came rushing in to see the commotion.

"What's going on?" A dark skinned, middle aged woman demanded as she ran into the room. The light made Jo dizzy and it felt like someone was trying to scoop out her brains and eyeballs with a spoon. Jo's thoughts became jumbled as she shut her eyes and tried to shield herself from the loud noise. She cried out again in pain and tried curl up, which resulted in moving her ribs.

The nurse placed a warm hand on Jo's forehead and tried to gently lay her back down. Jo cracked open her eyes to let the hated light in and tried to look at her nurse but her vision was still slightly blurry. "I- where am I?"

The nurse gave her a small smile, "You're at Gotham Metro Hospital, Ms. Grayson." Jo's shoulders relaxed somewhat and she allowed herself to be pushed down. Then she frowned and sat up again, and her ribs complained at the motion. She grimaced and said between slightly gritted teeth, "Does my father know I'm here?"

The nurse nodded in confirmation and glanced toward the doorway with an expression of slight distaste. She turned and started looking over Jo's monitors and offered a more detailed explanation as she worked, "Yes... He's been outside your room for the past two days. Absolutely refuses to move." The nurse shook her head as if to say, _what can you do?_

"Two days?!" Jo exclaimed, sitting up again. Pain laced through her rib cage and Jo cried out in pain. She tried to curl over to cradle her ribs, which only resulted in more discomfort in her ribs, shoulder, and gave her a head rush. The nurse gave her another sad, slightly condescending smile and gently pushed her back down. Jo gave her a pained look and tried to relax her muscles to see if that would ease the pain.

"Both you and your father are very stubborn, Ms. Grayson." Jo wasn't sure if the nurse meant that as a compliment.

"When... can I see him?" Jo asked, trying to focus on the nurse. However, the lights seemed to be streaming down and their glare hurt her head. The nurse looked her over and then leaned over to straighten Jo's left arm.

"You really sho uldn't have visitors. You need to rest and recover, young lady. You just went through a severe-,"

"I need my father." Jo interrupted, and glared at the nurse. Her vision cleared slightly and the nurse sighed and stuck the IV in rather roughly. Jo sucked in a sharp, agonized breath and wrinkled her nose at the nurse. The nurse's half hearted attempt at a smile stopped and she frowned back at Jo. They stayed there for a little while and Jo started to get dizzy. However, she refused to drop the nurse's gaze and tried to put as much ferocity into her green eyes as possible. Finally, the nurse caved and looked toward the door.

"Fine. Ten minutes," She huffed. Turning back to Jo, she said, "You need your rest." Her entire demeanor was admonishing toward Jo, like it was Jo's fault she got hurt and _dared_ to go to Gotham Met.

The nurse left with a huff and as soon as the door shut, it quickly reopened with her father bursting through. He pressed something against the door before he rushed to Jo's side. In a flash, he enveloped Jo in a hug. The IV had ripped out again, and Jo's ribs, shoulder, and head hurt as her father hugged her tightly. However, it didn't matter because for the first time in what felt like eternity, Jo felt safe.

That warm feeling of security filled Jo, causing her to hug her father back, despite the pain blazing through her body. She was overwhelmed with the feeling of love and protection. In her father's arms, Jo's defenses evaporated and suddenly the true emotional impact took its toll. Jo started to shake, unable to word her emotions of relief and terror. She sobbed into her father's shoulder. When she was dragged back into the train, Jo didn't think she would see him again. Her father just stroked her back and repeated, "I'm here, Johanna, I'm here."

Jo didn't realize until she regained control of her tears that her father's shoulders were shaking.

He was crying.

It was something she never saw. She started sobbing again, and for a long time they remained there, unable to voice their relief or fears that they may not have seen one another had Jo died. Finally, the tears started to dry and they broke apart, sniffling and eyes red. Jo carefully lowered herself back on the bed and grimaced at the pain in her ribs. He gripped the railing on the side of her bed and looked at her with concern. Then Dick reached over and wiped a tear of Jo's cheek. He managed a small smile.

"Don't scare me like that again, kiddo."

Jo nodded and sniffled again, trying to take in that her father was here and that she was safe. She managed a small smile and said, "I'll try."

He exhaled and gripped the metal bed-railing. Dick looked at her with a mixture of emotions that made him unreadable. Was he happy? Sad? Angry? Worried? Jo couldn't tell. She certainly couldn't focus with those goddamn lights. It felt like there was a knot in her throat from all the crying and she tried to focus on her father but there was a sharp pain in her head.

"Can… can you make it darker? The lights hurt my eyes."

Her father nodded, and reached for the light switch controller on her bedside table. He said with a small grin, "You're lucky I grew up in the dark."

"What?"

He shifted again and looked away, "Uh, Wayne Manor didn't have great lighting."

"Oh."

Jo was still concussed and was able to believe his strange explanation. However, an awkward silence lapsed between them, as it always did whenever he mentioned his adopted home. He only offered the sparsest of details regarding his childhood after Hayley's Circus, and a " _It's complicated._ " On his relationship with his adopted father, Bruce Wayne. The only other person Dick treated with that much ambiguity was Jo's mother.

Jo's brow furrowed as she realized she couldn't remember where she was. Weird. She could've sworn the nurse had told her, but it slipped her mind again. "Where am I?" She asked her father, and he studied her bruised face with a mixture of emotions she could not identify. He placed one hand on the bed's railing, and reached over to tuck a piece of Jo's brown hair behind her ear.

"You're in Gotham Metro Hospital."

"Oh." That did seem familiar. She furrowed her brow again, trying to remember the details escaping her. Her head pounded with each pulse of blood and she looked at her father imploringly.

"How did I get here?"

Her father shifted his weight back and looked toward the window. His hands had tightened slightly on the bar and he said guardedly, " _Batman_ brought you here."

Jo's eyes widened. She tried to sit up but her body protested and she huffed in pain.

"Batman?" She said with wonder. Her father looked down at her carefully, and he shifted his weight from one foot to another, like he was considering his next words with great consideration.

"What do you remember?"

Jo closed her eyes, feeling her head throb with pain and the memories swirl inside her brain like an angry sea. The memories of the Jokerz threatened to drown her in fear. Jo loosely recounted the events she could remember, "I had fallen asleep on the train when Term- the _Jokerz_ surrounded me. I nearly escaped but I… I hit my head when they pulled me back down. After that… I don't know."

Her father's shoulders visibly relaxed and another silence lapsed between them as Dick became lost in thought. He stared at the window, then he turned and gave her another small smile. "I'm just glad you're okay now."

Jo glanced toward her foot and felt anger start to bloom in her gut. Her expression darkened and she realized the consequences of her injuries. "I've missed the Amsterdam Olympics." Everything she worked for was undone- absolutely ruined. It was her last shot and she wasn't even given the chance to go for it. Miami was three, maybe two days away, and she was stuck in a hospital bed. Jo's head spun and anger caused the pain to fade slightly. She started sit up; she wanted out of this bed and needed to go do something. Her father put a firm hand on her forearm and said somberly, "Jo, I'm sorry. There's always-,"

"You know that's not an option!" She shouted, tears threatening to spill over again, and Dick sighed. He removed his hand from her arm and ran a hand through his hair. Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the door and they looked toward it. It snapped Jo out of her anger and she was suddenly filled with the desire to wallow in her hopelessness. Her entire future was derailed and she really just wanted to have a pity party.

"Johanna. Look at me." Jo looked up at her father listlessly. He sighed and rolled his eyes, "First of all, don't you dare start pouting about this. There is always hope and a way to succeed." Jo exhaled and nearly pouted at her father's words. How dare he say she couldn't- _and I'm pouting._ Jo tried to remain angry but her father grinned, knowing he was right. She slowly felt an unwanted grin spread across her face and she quickly smothered it and gave him a frown. His eyebrows rose and his grin turned into a soft smile. "Jo, you'll be okay. There's more to life than being an Olympian. You'll find your way."

Jo felt a warmpth fill her heart at her father's words and she nodded slightly, trying to believe his promise. She studied her broken foot and wondered what that way would be.

" _MISTER GRAYSON!"_ The nurse's voice was muffled through the door and the banging got louder. Dick looked towards the door with a guilty expression, but there was a grin on his face. Jo realized he must have tampered with the door.

"Alright, the nurses will be breaking down the doors soon, so I better head out."

He glanced over and saw the IV hanging off the bed and winced. "Oops." Her father leaned over and picked up the IV. "Here you go…" He slid it into Jo's arm painlessly and gave her an impish grin. "They'll never know it was gone."

Jo shared in his mischievous grin and nodded. She suddenly felt a wave of dizziness crash over her as the pain killers re-entered her system. She mustered a half yawn because her jaw and head hurt from the motion and managed a small, sleepy smile. He kissed Jo's forehead and said, "See you tomorrow, kiddo."

He walked briskly to the door and opened it. The nurse was mid-banging on the door and as the door slid open, she stumbled forward. Dick nimbly caught her and she gave him a cross look.

" _Mister Grayson_! You're lucky the door malfunctioned because you have gone way over ten minutes and you need…"

Jo drifted off to sleep hearing her father be berated by a crotchety old nurse, and she smiled slightly as her father tried to explain how he lost track of time.

* * *

 **A bit of a teaser for my next chapter: Jo will be meeting a member of the bat family the next time she wakes up and Dick will not be happy about it!**


	4. Chapter 4: Origins

Jo walked into the loft.

It was the first day of freedom. Her father watched her in the doorway, shifting his keys from hand to hand. Dick would look down, then back up again, trying to think of the right words to say.

"I'm sorry about the kitchen- I know it's a mess, but it'll be clean by tomorrow. Tim is going to stop by and drop off a turkey later tonight; Addison made ours, so we wouldn't have to worry about cooking tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Oh- right."

Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving was tomorrow. Jo rubbed her bad arm and stared down at the tiled floor. Two and a half weeks had passed in that hospital room. At least there wouldn't be school for another week, thanks to Thanksgiving Break. The idea of putting that school uniform back on made her stomach do somersaults. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she looked up at her father, panic rising in her throat.

"Dad, I wasn't able to take my finals this trimester. What am I going to do about my finals?!"

He shook his head and waved away her question, "Don't worry about school right now, Jo. I just want to focus on you getting back into the swing of things."

"My 'swing of things' was gymnastics and homework." Jo attempted to raise her right arm, but stopped halfway. Point proven- she couldn't get her limb above her chest, let alone do a floor routine or carry books.

Dick sighed. Suddenly, he looked a lot older than Jo remembered. The grey in his hair seemed to push a little more against the short black waves, and his blue eye seemed to loose a bit of its brightness.

He proceeded into the apartment slowly, and looked over the messy apartment.

"I'm trying to figure everything out, Johanna." He started cleaning up the kitchen. and Jo watched him, unsure how to comfort Dick.

She looked down at her hands, the bruises on her knuckles were a faded yellow- barely noticeable now. "It's just… if I have to do make up work, I just want to know what that is."

Her father grabbed the bag of chips from the counter and balled them in his fist. The metallic counter stood between father and daughter; when Dick spoke, his voice trembled slightly. "Jo, _don't_ worry about GA right now. Rest up. I have a couple lessons tonight, so make some dinner or order out if you want to. No need to wait up for me."

The older man checked his watch. "I need to go, but let me know if you need anything." Dick gave her a smile, and Jo returned it. He headed out the door and down the stairwell towards to massive gymnasium below.

The door shut and she let out a slow exhale.

The apartment looked exactly as Jo remembered it- it had the same L-shaped kitchen with an island in the center, the same small table on the side, and it led into the same living room area and hallway to the bedrooms- but it felt like it belonged to a stranger. Sunlight from the skylights seemed like warm stage lighting and as she looked around the messy kitchen, she couldn't help but feel as though everything was a set piece for a movie or play- none of it was real. She picked up a half-eaten bag of stale chips and peered in at the contents before quietly setting them back on the cluttered countertop. The dark haired girl proceeded to the cabinet and it slid open, displaying some very real glassware. She shut it with a quiet, "Damn it."

This continued to be reality.

Faint vibrations of music began to waft up through the wood floorboards of the apartment. She could hear her father coaching one of his gymnastic pupils in the gym below, and Jo felt a mixture of envy and sorrow well up in her chest. A week ago, she would've known if she made the National Team. Two weeks ago, that opportunity was taken from her. Her arm throbbed, and she rubbed her shoulder slowly, trying to feel the thick bandages underneath her sweater.

It was her first day out since the hospital, and the long period of bedrest had provided her ample time to self-pity. But it seemed it the party was not over yet- a lump formed in her throat. She swallowed audibly, trying to wash down the overwhelming feeling like she was going to cry.

The apartment was silent albeit the music. For the first time since she was a kid, she was alone. Gymnastics was always an individualistic sport and she spent so much of her life focusing on it, for absolutely nothing. No friends. Not even her father was around.

Jo sighed and kicked the cabinet with her booted foot. At least the casts and slings would be coming off next week- just in time for school to begin after Thanksgiving Break. The thought of going back to Gotham Academy made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She didn't want to answer the questions from teachers, overhear the whispers in the hallways, and start to complete all the overdue work. Jo wasn't able to take the trimester finals, and knowing GA, she would have to take them all that first week back.

She stared up at the ceiling and imagined pile of things she had to do continued to build. What else did she miss when she was in that hospital bed? She should call the school and find out.

Jo picked up the home phone and dialed the number. It rang for awhile, until Pauline, the woman at the front desk, picked up.

"Hello, Gotham Academy- registrar's front desk speaking, this is Pauline." Pauline had a high voice with a Brooklyn accent- a voice that that Jo always remembered with a tremor of fear because it was the one that reprimanded her for missing school. She could picture the cat cup sitting on her desk and taste the awful cherry candies.

"Uh, hi Pauline. It's Jo Grayson."

"Oh, Jo, are you feeling better? I heard about the accident- just awful. My mother always told me I should never fall asleep on trains, and you always get it- but now I _get it_." Pauline's voice was filled with false sympathy, and Jo wondered if people were actually born with the name Pauline, or if they came out of the womb as a middle aged woman with three cats and a desk job.

"I'm, uh, feeling better. Definitely better. I was just wondering how I could find out what I should be making up in my classes."

The line was quiet. A nervousness started to trickle down Jo's back, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"Oh, Jo, your dad didn't tell you?" Genuine sympathy came from Pauline's voice this time.

A buzz went through the loft, notifying her that someone was at the street door waiting to be let inside.

Jo's body tensed and she gripped the side of the counter. Images of straight jackets and laughter filled her mind, and she shut her eyes. Focus. It was probably nothing _._ "Tell me what?"

"Oh, honey, I hate to be the one to tell you this. As you know, we run on a trimester system. Your father pays for each trimester, rather than the full school year because you had gymnastics," Jo pressed her lips together, waiting for Pauline to get to the point. "Then you had your accident, and-,"

 _BUZZ._ The doorbell rang again and Jo let out a yelp of surprise. Pauline paused and said, "Are you listening to me, Jo?"

"Yes, sorry, Pauline." Jo shifted so she could hold the home phone between her shoulder and the side of her face, and reached forward with shaking hands to access the console on the counter _._ Pauline cleared her throat.

Another buzz. Jo's fingers trembled as she accessed the door monitor. "As I was saying, your father pays for each trimester, and due to the accident…"

A young man appeared on the screen. He carried a thick bag under his arm and shifted from foot to foot. He glanced over his shoulder and sighed again. Jo squinted, feeling as though she had seen his face before. It made her stomach turn. "…Academy doesn't accept loans as payment."

"Hello? Mr. Grayson?"

He knocked this time, and Jo glanced down at the buzzer. The door he was in front of would allow him to enter through the back staircase, behind the gym so her father would never know. Perfect route for the Jokerz to- do what? You really think he's a Jokerz? They never actually got your name _._ Jo scolded herself, and tuned in just in time to hear Pauline say, "…You are not attending Gotham Academy for the remainder of this year."

Jo went cold. Her eyes widened and gripped the countertop with surprise. "I-I- where am I going to school, then?"

"You'll have to go into the public school system, Miss Grayson. Whatever is your district's designated school." Jo's world felt like it was spinning. She looked up at the skylights and tried to steady herself. She didn't like Gotham Academy, but she knew all the kids there- knew what to expect from them. Knew how to blend in. The thought of a new school, a _public high school,_ sent a shiver down her spine.

She looked down at the monitor and her stomach dropped. The door was open and the man was no longer there. He was walking up the back stairwell. Jo's heart began to pound.

"Uh, Pauline, I need to go."

"Of course, dear. Call if you need transcripts for any programs. We'll keep your physical records for a year-,"

Jo shut off the line and dialed her father.

His phone rang somewhere in the apartment. "Oh, god." She ended the call, and backed away from the door. She turned the corner and pressed herself against the wall.

The door slid open, and the sound of soft footsteps filled the quiet apartment.

She sucked in a breath and looked down the hallway, trying to think of something to arm herself with. Rustling from the kitchen filled the apartment, and something heavy dropped on the counter.

The only thing close to her was the old push broom her father insisted on keeping. Jo hobbled to the broom, and her good hand closed around the long handle. Blood roared in her ears as she lifted the heavy broom above her shoulder and crept back toward the kitchen. The rustling stopped. Everything grew still, and a tremble ran through Jo's body. She pulled the broom back in preparation of striking the intruder. A shadow of the intruder extended into the hallway, and he tensed.

Jo yelped with surprise as the dark figure darted around the corner. She swung before thinking, and the broom whacked against the person. However, the ancient cleaning tool had seen better days, and the heavy, bristled, actual broom end went soaring off the pole and crashed against the wall with a loud THUD.

The blow surprised him, and knocked him back a few steps. Jo spun around the corner, adrenaline helping her ignore her foot and bad shoulder. All she could see the flash of tan leather and dark hair. She swung with the now, very light broom handle, and hit the intruder audibly on the ribs. He leaned away from the blow and snapped his elbow down around the handle, pinning it against his body.

He grabbed the handle, pivoted around, and effectively ripped it from Jo's hand. The intruder rushed forward in a blur, and Jo was suddenly pressed against the wall, broom at her throat. Panic seized her body and she froze, not able to muster a scream. All she could see were blazing, clear blue eyes.

"Who are y-," The attacker's words died off, and the broom clattered to the ground as the intruder backed away. Jo sank back against the wall and she looked at the intruder with wild confusion. Then, it felt like someone punched her in the stomach as she realized who was in her kitchen.

"Oh shit," She managed, unable to keep her cheeks from flushing. This was too fucking much.

The dark haired boy was running a hand through his hair and muttered something about how, "…is going to kill me."

She looked down at the broken broom on the floor and back at the boy. He was the one who helped her with her bag on the street. Jo couldn't remember his name, but she remembered he had a nice smile. Jo slowly knelt down at picked the broom handle back up. He quickly put his hands in the air.

"Hey- hey- hey, easy now. I'm not here to fight."

She tried to look as ferocious as a crippled teenage girl could manage. Her good arm held the long broom handle diagonally before her body, trying to remember what her father taught her about form all those years ago. _"_ _Its all in the wrists,"_ Dick would tell her with a shrug. _"_ _You'll learn it one day."_

She felt a little twinge of anger that her father did not teach her more martial arts. Still, the intruder didn't know she didn't know, so Jo glared at him and spun the staff once to intimidate him.

"Why are you here? Who are you?"

He took a step back, hands raised. "I work for your grandfather- Bruce Wayne. He asked me to deliver a turkey on my way home."

"My father has not talked to Mr. Wayne for over 20 years. _Why_ is he sending a turkey?"

The boy took another step back, and glanced over his shoulder at the large poultry on the counter. He looked at Jo and gave a forced smile. "I don't pretend to know what goes on in Mr. Wayne's head, but I guess Thanksgiving is tomorrow." Jo didn't lower the broom, and his smile was replaced by a serious frown, "Look, I was told to deliver the bird and check on Grayson's daughter. I assume that's you."

Jo gave a short nod. The blue eyed boy gave her a quick once over and said, "You seem to be doing pretty well to me."

Her efforts not to blush must've resulted in a scowl because he backed up again and this time he collided with the island countertop.

"Sorry, not what I meant- not that you aren't- I didn't mean- I mean- you look healthy and you're attractive, but I have a girlfriend and-," He sighed, "I have dug myself a _very_ nice hole, which I will now go lay in _._ " He ran a hand over his face, and gave her a sheepish smile. Jo felt a small smile stretch across her face and despite herself. She looked away, trying to compose herself.

"Sorry for attacking you, Miss Grayson." He rubbed the side of his neck where a small red welt was forming and gave her a smile. Jo's self restraint broke down- her cheeks flooded with heat and she let out a small exhale.

"Me too…" She looked at his face, trying to remember his name.

"Terry McGinnis." He extended his right hand out of habit, but pulled it back when he saw hers in the sling. He stuck both hands in the pockets of his brown leather jacket and gave her another half smile. "Well, maybe we'll see each other again sometime."

Jo raised her eyebrows skeptically and did something that looked like a shrug. Their gazes lingered, and she wondered if she would actually see those blue eyes again. Doubtful. The sunlight from the roof's windows cast warm light across Terry's face, and her stomach did another somersault.

Jo averted her eyes first, looking down to stare at the floor. Do I ask him to stay? Is there any food in the house? Oh god, I hope there's food, maybe we could go out to eat- but he has a girlfriend and that might be too forward. Maybe I should just-

She looked up to see he had already slipped out the door.

…

The Graysons spent their Thanksgiving at Finnigan's Diner.

It was a level below their loft, but it served some of the best hearty food in Gotham. It frequented by cops and nostalgic older men looking to relive their youth through old music, hand held menus, and human waiters. Dick fit into both of those categories and whenever he sought a comfortable meal, Finnigan's was the place. However, tonight was a tense, silent dinner.

When Dick found out the turkey was from Wayne, he dropped it off at the local food drive as soon as possible. He grumbled about the poultry all day to no one in particular, "This is how he reaches out to me?… acting like I can't afford a turkey… 22 pound bird, but who the hell were we going to feed with a 22 pound bird?… Wayne, he just did this to get in my head…"

Jo nodded quietly the entire time Dick grumbled, remembering the one time Mr. Wayne- never "Grandfather"- sent them a Christmas card. She was nine and couldn't recall everything that happened, just that the thick, fine white paper had a simple inscription, "Merry Christmas -Bruce". Her father never got rid of the card, but he went on about it for weeks, calling Tim and demanding to know if Bruce had reached out to him as well. Mr. Wayne had, which sent Dick into another angry rant. He blocked all mail from his adopted father the following week and answered Jo's questions with a simple remark: "He established he wanted no contact. I am just holding him to that."

Since that fateful note, the only mention of the name was through television news. Her father would listen quietly, but his blue eye would narrow into a dark, dark glare. Jo wondered what happened between Dick and Mr. Wayne; whenever she inquired, her father would always say, "I'll tell you one day; it's a long story."

However, the turkey was much worse than the Christmas card. It didn't help that Jo sat in angry silence. Now, she had fully processed that her father neglected to inform her that she could no longer attend Gotham Academy. Even worse, he seemed to have no inclination to tell her even when she probed the subject in casual conversation.

"The fact that he offered to pay-," Whatever he was about to say snapped him out of his grumbles. Dick looked up and gave Jo a small smile. "Sorry, Jo, this isn't the best holiday topic. I'm sorry."

"Isn't that what Thanksgiving is for? Old family fights and bitter secrets?" Jo meant for it to come out light hearted, but the remark was cold and short. Her father straightened and frowned.

"And what's gotten into you?" He asked.

Jo looked away and folded her arms. She pressed her lips together, debating whether or not to tell her father what she knew.

"Nothing." She muttered.

"It's obviously something," Her father took up his 'parent tone'. Jo didn't need to look over to see that his eyebrows were knit together and his eye filled with worry. She remained sullen.

"Jo, I know giving up gymnastics is hard. But the doctors gave you 3 months, and that's nothing! Before you know it, you'll be back on the mat and-,"

"This isn't about gymnastics!" Jo exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. The few people in the Finnigan's looked over at her outburst. Her cheeks flushed and she leaned forward to glare at her dad.

"This isn't about gymnastics," she whispered angrily. "This is about-,"

"One bacon cheese burger, and one chicken sandwich with lettuce and tomato. Extra large fries for both." The waitress smiled brightly at Dick and he gave her a smile in return. Jo wondered if part of the rest her father liked this place was because of the waitresses. The thought made her more angry.

"Thanks, Jenny. This looks wonderful," Dick said, and Jenny beamed as she set the plates down. "Of course, Mr. Grayson. Enjoy!"

He watched her as she walked away, before turning back to Jo.

"You were saying?"

But Jo just shoveled food in her mouth and shrugged. Dick rolled his eyes and probably thought to himself, _teenagers._ He moved in on the burger and began to eat. They ate in tense silence. Jo finished her sandwich before her father, and then began snacking on the fries. Finally, she couldn't take it.

"I called GA yesterday."

Her father's eye widened in realization and he set the burger down.

"Jo, I didn't want to upset you-,"

"It's a little late for that. When were you going to tell me? The night before I was supposed to go back?"

Her father lowered his gaze and didn't answer her. Jo folded her arms and sat back against the booth's red leather seats. "I just wish you told me. You never keep anything from me."

Something crossed her father's expression when she said that, a shadow. It passed so quickly, Jo almost thought she imagined it. She narrowed her eyes but didn't say anything. Her father cleared his throat and pursed his lips.

"I shouldn't have… kept that from you, Jo. It was selfish, and… and I think I wanted to live in the denial that I could afford to pay the medical bills and your tuition. But I'm sorry, Johanna; I truly am sorry."

Jo sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "What school am I going to?"

"I'm trying to see if the magnet program at Hamilton will take you."

"But I don't have a particular school interest." Jo knit her eyebrows together and her father sighed again and took a bite of his fry. "I know, but we now need to think terms of college what will make you look like the best applicant." That seven letter word sent a chill down her spine. Before, all she was concerned with was competing for the olympics. The concept of secondary education seemed to be a foreign one. And just as unattainable as that Olympic mat in Amsterdam, now.

"When do I start school?"

"This Monday."


	5. Chapter 5: Origins

Chapter 5

Jo stood at the steps of her new high school and gazed up at the large, impending letters on the front of the high school. A cold wind blew across the steps and she zipped her jacket up. The sun was just coming up- nights continuously became longer and colder as they neared December. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and exhaled. A new high school midway through her junior year. Fantastic. She knew she should go inside, but that would mean truly- trulystarting over. She grimaced.

After a couple more minutes, Jo steeled her nerves, straightened her back, and strode through the automatic doors of Hamilton Hill High School.

The old statue of Mayor Hill stood in the center part of the entryway, which split off into three wings and two separate stairwells. The floors were a grey tile, the walls a faded yellow, and Green H's were painted on a decoration and school spirit. Posters about the Homecoming Dance and bands and try-out schedules were haphazardly taped to the walls. The school had a certain smell- like an old, empty gym, and it was quiet, despite the sound of slamming lockers and classroom doors shutting wafting down the three hallways. And standing next to the towering bronze statue of the late Mayor Hill, Jo had never felt so hopelessly lost.

Three students passed her, plugged into their music and blatantly ignoring her. More and more students started filing in, and all of them going about their business, unconcerned about the green eyed girl trying to find the registrar's office. Finally, she got someone's attention and they pointed her in the right direction. She walked up a staircase to the office and walked in to find a small office with three chairs, a small desk, and a bigger door behind that desk which presumably lead to the principle's office. There was a man at the front desk, busily at work writing something on his tablet. There were papers everywhere, and the news was playing softly. He wore a simple green plaid button down that was buttoned incorrectly, and his hairline had pushed far back on his head so only a ring of dark grey hair remained between his ears. His head gleamed nicely in the morning sun. The nameplate on his desk read "Eugene B. Backer", but it had lots of smudges and scratches.

Jo gave a sheepish smile as she knocked on the doorframe and cleared her throat.

"Mr. Backer?"

He looked up with surprise, "Oh! Hello, you must be new. All the kids call me Gene. How can I help you, Miss? Or- Mister, or they, or-,"

"Jo is fine." Jo stepped inside the office. "I was hoping to see my class schedule and locker number, and anything else I might need for my first day of classes."

He ran a hand over his nonexistent hair and nodded, "Yes, you're the transfer from Gotham Academy. I just saw your packet. Oh, and your tour guide should be here any minute… now where did I put those damn papers…?"

He began to rummage through the mess on his desk. Jo glanced over her shoulder at the students passing in the hallway, and wondered if any of them were her tour guides. There were so many different people here, all dressed so differently, all so unconcerned about one another. Someone let out a howl somewhere down the hallway, followed by a, "I haven't seen you in, like, forever!" Another person literally hissed, and Jo straightened. There were splicers here too. Holy shit, I'm going to die _._ She ran a hand over her face, and turned back to face Gene, who had found her packet.

"Here you go Jo-Jo! Your ID is in the plastic container and- here's your guide to your first class!" Jo turned red at the name Gene gave her, but accepted the packet with a quiet thank you. Stomach dropping, she turned to meet her guide.

The girl standing in the doorway wore a short blue dress and a warm black jacket. She'd clearly just come from outside and was still out of breath. She was petite, with a slender face and almond shaped, dark eyes and tan complexion. She smiled warmly at Jo and tossed back a strand of black hair before extending her hand. "Johanna? I'm Dana."

Jo shook her hand and gave her a smile that she hoped appeared genuine. "Jo," was all she said.

"Sorry, Jo, I just got the notification last night, and everything is always super hectic coming back, I almost forgot about you." She gave a flustered laugh and motioned for them to walk into the hallway. Jo was quiet, so Dana cleared her throat and started a new conversation.

"So do you want to go to your locker first?" Jo nodded, then internally berated herself for not verbally answering. She looked through the sheets of information and found her locker number.

"D43." Dana peered over at her papers and nodded. "This way! Hamilton can be really confusing at times, I know I was so lost my freshman year. The two major hallways you saw when you came in are divided by math/ science and English/ history. The other hallway leads has the art classrooms and various other classes to the cafeteria. All our athletic facilities are underneath us, and all the faculty and administrative is up here. Lockers are basically in every hallway 'cause we have so many students. Do you have any questions so far?"

A silence lapsed between them, and Jo said the first thing that came to mind. "You don't have an arts center?" The look Dana gave her made Jo feel like a fish out of water, but then her guide gave a small smile and said, "Hamilton focuses on math, english, and science mostly. Arts really isn't what kids come here for." Jo flushed and nodded. Another silence elapsed as they walked down the staircase and came back to the hallway.

"Is there a map of everything?" She asked lamely, and Dana smiled sympathetically. "If you ask any of the kids in your classes where the next class is, you'll most likely have a shared class, or get directions. There's a lot of people here, and most of them are pretty nice."

Jo accidentally bumped into a girl, who turned around and bared her three inch long fangs and growled, "Watch it." Jo nodded, hoping she appeared convinced. Dana gave an nervous laugh, "Most of them." The carried on to Locker D43.

"So, why are you transferring mid-year?" Dana asked after a couple more moments.

"I- uh- my school rejected my financial aid." Jo glanced at Dana, who looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I came to Hamilton because it was one of the only schools that still had school buses- my dad's work didn't allow him to drive me to any other school. It's honestly a pretty great place if you give it a chance."

Dana stopped and motioned toward a locker. Jo sidestepped out of the traffic of the hallway and shuffled through the papers in her bad arm. She grabbed her ID and swiped the locker open. Kids were all around getting their tablets and textbooks for class. Jo deposited her bag and looked at her schedule.

"Cell Bio first." Dana looked at the schedule and her eyes brightened. "Oh, my boyfriend has that class! He'd be happy to show you around. I'll text him and tell him to show you around."

"Oh, that's really not necessary. I think I can figure out the room numbers and hallways after my first couple-," Dana waved away Jo's protest and whipped out her phone.

"Nonsense. I know Terry would be happy to show around a new student." Jo's eyes widened and her heart froze at the name. Terry _?_ There's no way its the same person. Her mind started to whirl, and she didn't notice Dana had peaked over at Jo's schedule again and gave her another warm smile, "And we all have the same lunch block! Come sit with us- I know it can be really hard transferring mid-year, so having a few friendly faces is always better."

Jo nodded numbly and pulled out her tablet. Dana was quiet for a second, and then tentatively placed a hand on Jo's shoulder. Alarm jolted through her, and she slapped Dana's hand off her instinctively. It was the shoulder the Jokerz shot.

Dana's face was shocked; Jo's face was red.

"I'm sorry," Jo mumbled staring at her feet. Then she cleared her throat and looked up at Dana, who was nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. "I, uh, I'm not a touchy person." Jo managed a smile and continued, "But I'd love to eat lunch with you."

Dana laughed a little forcefully and said, "Well, I just got a text back from Terry, who apparently has just woken up." The time was 7:55AM. "He probably won'tmake Cell Bio, but I'm sure you all will meet soon. Great guy, he's just always working and so that doesn't make him a great boyfriend all the time but-," Dana sighed and put her hand on her face. "Sorry, I'm talking to much." She gave Jo a smile, "Do you, uh, need help finding the class?"

Jo shrugged, "It's that way, right?"

Dana nodded, and awkwardly gave a little wave. "Well, I'm, uh, headed that way. But I'll see you later, Johanna!" She took a step back and the river of people swept her away.

"It's Jo," Jo called after her quietly, and turned back toward her locker.

It was 7:58 AM, and god help her, she would get through this.

…

Jo found the class just after the bell rang, and the teacher had just shut the door. To prevent school massacres, all doors locked as soon as class started, so Jo had to knock on the door until the teacher opened it.

He was a small, older man with dark hair and glasses- dressed in a jacket, button down and black pants. Perhaps most striking about his mousy features was his protruding nose, which wrinkled and moved as he spoke. Jo's eyes immediately latched onto and could not help stare at it as he spoke.

"Ah, our new student. Ms.… Gray, was it? Whatever it is, you're _late_." He quickly ushered her into class. Whispers began to sweep among the tables as Jo stood like a deer in the headlights before rows and rows of students. Almost every chair taken except for the ones in the front row. She ran a hand through her hair and shuffled toward the nearest chair- unfortunately, in the front row- and sat down.

The teacher shut the door and resumed his teachings- something about the mitochondria. Jo could hear her own pulse at it raced, she could feel the stares of god knows how many students on her, and she quickly pulled out her tablet. It was her old one from 9th grade and middle school because the new one was smashed that night. Jo looked over herself and untucked her hair behind her ear to cover her red face. Just glancing around the room, she suddenly felt overdressed in her black turtleneck and black jeans- she had hoped to blend in with simple basics but everyone wore school colors, sweatpants, and short skirts. Jo had never gone to school in any of those things before.

Jo tried to take notes on her old tablet but it was so out of date, she ended up updating it and pretending to pay attention to Cell Bio. Towards the end of class, someone started banging loudly at the door. The teacher sighed and gave a sardonic smile to the class.

"That would be Mr. McGinnis- late- as per usual on Monday Mornings." He strode over to the door and opened it. Jo's heart dropped once again because there he was, the boy from her apartment, out of breath and apologizing to the teacher.

The teacher held up his hand and said, "You've missed the majority of the class; therefore, you have _missed_ class, Mr. McGinnis. Thank you, and goodbye." He shut the door in Terry's face just as his eyes landed on Jo's.

"Hey, it's you-,"

But the teacher had continued class without skipping a beat. Jo kept glancing over at the door despite herself. The minutes inched by until, finally, the bell rang. The students stood up and shuffled out, talking to one another and catching up on what they did over Thanksgiving break. The door opened and Jo wasn't sure she felt disappointment or relief that Terry wasn't standing there. In any case, she walked forward, looking down at her schedule when she received a tap on the shoulder.

She straightened and turned around to see a tall, broad shouldered student wearing a green and yellow varsity letterman jacket, smiling at her. He was handsome, with fine features, dark eyes, and thick red hair, and his smile was very nice. Jo's skin prickled a bit when he spoke; he had a calming voice, but something felt uncomfortably familiar about it. "You're new, right?"

She nodded, taking a step back. He extended his hand, "I'm Carter, student-body president. If you need any help getting to your next class, I'd be more than happy to show you the way."

"Thanks, I'm-," Jo meant to say "Okay _."_ but Carter pulled her schedule from her hands and said, "You have English next- I have a free block, but I can take you there."

"No, it's really okay." But Carter started walking with her schedule and Jo was forced to follow. He read over her schedule and seemed to be satisfied by whatever he saw, "So, Johanna Mary Grayson _,_ you're not doing any of the magnet programs?" He asked as they turned into the hallway. Jo quickened her pace and looked around.

"It's Jo." She looked to her right and blinked as she made eye contact with Terry. He appeared to be waiting by the door for her, and began to moved toward her. Jo paused in her step. Carter placed his hand on her arm lightly and said, "This way, Jo."

She sighed, gave a small wave to Terry, and turned back to her self proclaimed tourguide, "It's really okay-,"

"No, don't worry about it. Hamilton can be so confusing. Anyway, you were saying about the magnet program?"

Jo cocked her head in confusion at his focus on academics and began to walk with Carter. "No, they wouldn't accept me this late in the year, so I'm taking all regular classes."

Carter nodded and swept a hand through his hair. "Where'd you transfer from?" He looked over at her, and gave her a charming smile.

"Uh, Gotham Academy. They didn't approve my financial aid for the second term."

"Oh, well. Their loss, our gain."

Jo shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." She felt Carter looking at her, but she stared fixedly ahead, trying to make sure she avoided any collisions in the hallway traffic. As they came into the bustling center around Mayor Hill's statue, Carter gestured toward the statue.

"Give it a chance. There's some pretty smart people here; not everyone whose deserving gets the _opportunity_ for private school." His tone became a little sharper when he said that last part, and Jo gave an uncomfortable smile. Before she could respond, a couple jocks bumped Carter on the shoulder and gave him an amicable greeting. Carter stopped and talked with them for a bit. Finally, the skinnier, dark haired jock seemed to notice Jo and gave her a blatant once over. "Who's your friend, Carter?"

"Oh, she's new, I'm just showing her around." The boys exchanged a look and then looked at Jo, expecting her to introduce herself. She flushed and stuck out her hand.

"I'm Jo." None of the guys shook her hand she her face grew even hotter as she awkwardly tried to recover by pulling her hand up and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Uh, Carter, I'm pretty sure I can figure out my next class if you, uh, want to talk to these guys." She reached for her schedule and he sighed, handing it over to her.

"Alright, alright." He pulled the piece of paper away from her jokingly, and Jo didn't reach for it. She kept her hand expectantly extended until Carter sighed and handed it over. "I'm sure I'll see you around, Jo." She nodded and turned to walk away.

"Don't be a stranger." He called after her, and Jo turned around to give a smile she hoped didn't appear as a grimace and quickly hurried into the sea of people. Carter smiled as he watched her disappear.

"Well, I'll be damned." He thought to himself. "Little. Miss. School. Girl."


End file.
